


Clothes

by beautifullyheeled



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Bonding, Falling In Love, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Party Games, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Teenlock, Understanding Siblings, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2317580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullyheeled/pseuds/beautifullyheeled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’d all got... mostly... drunk, just enough to make it fun, not enough to ruin it. Sarah had even brought a cake, so it felt like a proper party. The place had filled fairly fast and the music was good. Then the games had started; which brought his circuitous thought pattern back to the moment and those pale eyes of his best friend, Sherlock Holmes.</p><p>John and Sherlock have been friends since childhood. Seven Minutes in a closet? It would be all fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeWritingMime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeWritingMime/gifts).



> This is for the wonderful LeTalkingMime! She and I got up to shenanigans one night in chat and this little plot bunny was born.
> 
> I love when we take off like this and I hope you love where the rabbit trail led...

“Do you wanna?” John looked up, even though they were seated beside one another in the circle, Sherlock was still almost a full head taller than the smaller blond. 

Not that he was small, he was solid, stout, compact... rugby had honed his body as much as the time he spent with his grandparents in Scotland over this last summer. It was good to be home. Be with his friends again. Molly had given everyone use of her parent’s place as they were still gone for another two weeks; they’d have free reign of the place.

They’d all got _mostly_ drunk, just enough to make it fun, not enough to ruin it. Sarah had even brought a cake, so it felt like a proper party. The place had filled fairly fast and the music was good. Then the games had started, which brought his circuitous thought pattern back to the moment and those pale glaz eyes of his best friend, Sherlock Holmes.

“Do you? It is only seven minutes, John.” Sherlock was whispering low to him, keeping his words between them. “They assume I’m Alpha as well and think it will be a lark they could get a good chuckle out of. _Alpha rut_...” His eyes had closed as he minutely shook his shoulders in that dismissive way of his. “Up to you.”

“Um, I’ll give it a go,” John nodded as the hoots and hollers began. The teasing was to be expected, he knew that, but _god_ had he wanted this moment with the lanky genius with dark curls and a wicked smile for ages now. He stood and offered Sherlock his hand. “Let’s show them up then?”

He smiled wolfishly; Sherlock stood and raised the stakes, scenting him right there if front of everyone. His chest tight against John’s; nose buried at his throat. Sherlock let go suddenly, walking off towards the walk-in under the stairs. 

“Coming John?”

“He will be!” John heard from Sally, giggling away in Jonathan's arms. He’d seemed to have straightened out, standing to his full height once again, which had helped them both. John shook his head and just winked at the group, pulling all of the bravado he could to the forefront, just as Sherlock had.

“Not before he does.” John played it cool. Laughed. Jogging a few steps, he caught up to Sherlock who was already leaning in the open doorway. “ _Start the time_!”

After pushing Sherlock in, John pressed coats and jackets to the far wall to give them even more space. Not so... hemmed in. 

He shut the door, eyes immediately searching Sherlock’s face. “You sure? We could just... talk?”

“John.” His name became a word, no words, fathoms deep with meaning.

“Yea, okay... I want to too.” John pulled at Sherlock’s hand, lacing their fingers. “How long?”

“Longer than I thought you could hold out; but when you- well I knew.” Sherlock kept his gaze steady. “I haven’t yet. So there is that as well. I’m a frea-”

“No,” John shook his head and stepped up kissing Sherlock hard. “You’re _not_ a freak, Sherlock. You’re a late-bloomer. It’s all fine. This... you’re lovely just like this.”

“Come on, John.” 

Sherlock huffed against his lips and kissed John back, giving as good as he had just gotten. The twinkle in his eyes in the dim light of the closet were too much. John kissed him once again, slathered a hot line of open mouthed kisses down his exposed throat. He undid a few more of Sherlock’s buttons before Sherlock could get air to protest, scenting him brazenly. The moan might have been John’s, might have been Sherlock’s. He wasn’t sure. John only knew he had to _lick_ the tender spot where nape joined the thin shoulder. It was his for now. 

Sherlock scrunched down a little, panting at the simple foreplay. John smiled at that too. His fingers guided a hand to his arse and the other to his hair as he rubbed his nose at the spot he never wanted to leave. He nipped, just a bit and just beside it; Sherlock moaned clearly that time. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you, Sherlock.” He whispered his tenor gone rough. “Come on, you can touch me, too.”

John moved his mouth to the tender hollow of the long neck, then began undoing the rest of the fiddly buttons, his mouth moving along whatever skin he could reach. Then he began on his own, taking the firmness of the plush arse beneath his fingers. 

‘ _Damn firm... practically lickable..._ ’ John wished to high heaven he could drop to his knees and just _taste_ , but there would be no slick to meet him. In his warmest fantasies Sherlock would be just like this, but they’d be chest to back- 

The deep sonorous moan pulled him from his thoughts as his fingers met damp.

Sherlock too busy unraveling, his short gasps of breath hot against John’s ear to notice that John has stopped. John blushed hotly, as he tried to school himself. He couldn’t believe how... even his thigh was wet-

“Sher- Sherlock...” He puffs softly. “Um, get a bit... excited?”

“Hm?” 

Sherlock continued to rock against his thigh, his own long fingers gripping at John’s back. It felt good. They were already heating up the inclosed space, and Sherlock was still over half hard and rutting against him. Maybe he hadn’t felt his bladder discharge at that last bite? It was bound to become uncomfortable soon. 

“Sherlock, stop- you’ve.” He rested his forehead against the length of Sherlock’s throat, hiding his own second-hand embarrassment. “You’ve taken the piss, literally love. It’s- I think you got a bit too excite-”

“ _I. Did. Not. Urinate. John._ ” The depth of his voice was practically sub-sonic and completely on edge. 

“Then why are you wet, love?” John spoke softly as he pet to soothe and ran his hand deeper against Sherlock’s cleft. “You’ve even soaked through my jeans. My thigh’s a wreck.”

He had to nuzzle; to kiss soft sweet kisses and calm his mate.

‘ _Where in the HELL had that thought come from_?!?’

“Oh, oh no. No, Sherlock... you’ve. We have to get you _out_ of here. You’re gone over!” 

The closet was almost stifling- John rolled his eyes and bit his lip hard. _Heat._ And by all that was holy, John really, really did not want to do this _here_. It was coming down around them. If they weren’t careful they’d- 

“I can’t be... in Heat! I’m hot an-” Sherlock groaned then, his head thudding dully against the fabric hidden wall. “John- it _has_ to be you! I can’t have anyone else touch me!”

“Well what do you want me to do about it?!” John was most certainly not panicking. He dropped his voice to an almost hiss. “I don’t even have a condom! I didn’t think that I’d be getting a leg over with anyone tonight!”

“Here!” Sherlock fiddled with a pocket... hi hand going... somewhere... (a near by coat!) and pulled one out. “Knot me, John. You’re my only hope.”

“Fu-” He bit the expletive off. “Sherlock! I... this isn’t the way I hoped.”

“I know. Just. It’s fine... it’s you.” Sherlock looked at him then. Kissed him more gently than they had previously. “Please, John.” 

“Yea, fine... yes.” 

John pulled at Sherlock’s clothing as Sherlock pulled at his. Half dressed, silkily slick, trousers and pants gone, Sherlock already looked fully debauched. It sent a bolt of need straight through John as he hastily dropped his kit and pressed Sherlock up and against the wall. Condom on, he tried to probe gently with at least a finger, but Sherlock was having none of it. He pressed down against John, taking the two fingers to the second knuckle and keened. Sherlock was desperate and John could barely breathe and _all of this was just a bit too much but_... 

There. 

“Fuck.” Hot and slick and _wonderful_ met his cock and took it all in almost a single slippery thrust. “Shhh... oh, fuck, Sherlock... It’s alright... I _promise_. I-”

Sherlock on the other hand moaned louder and bit into the sleeve of someone’s jacket as he half-whimpered half-cried at the intrusion. It was certainly a _good_ sound. Not a _bad_ one and John stopped for just a second to let his body catch-up to the fact that he was... no it was there... his mind on the other hand- No. He could and would admit he’d fallen for Sherlock, he wasn’t blind but buggering your best friend in a closet game of Seven Minutes in Heaven leading to a bonding heat? John thrust finally, a sluice of fluid leaving Sherlock as he begged for more; for all of John. He knew they were sodden. He licked at Sherlock’s ear; could _smell_ him. 

What was his life?

“Us... John... oh! It’s us... p -l-e-a-s-e...” Sherlock gasped and pressed down until he cried out in earnest. “Just- take me!”

“Not... this... way-” John growled, pulled out quite reluctantly as his mate whined, and flipped Sherlock around pressing him tightly against other coats and jackets. His arse now on full display made John drop to his knees and lap until Sherlock himself fell shuddered; falling to his own. John controlled his descent as much as he could. Scenting Sherlock, he pressed his chest flush to Sherlock’s back sharing their combined warmth. John gathered them both back to their feet as positioned himself against his mate. 

“Only pleasure... fuck.. I _swear it_ , Sherlock... oh love.” He grabbed a good handful of Sherlock’s dark curls and thrust in hard. The angle was perfect. John fucked into his best friend-now-lover and swore he’d make it as good as he could. 

“John!” Sherlock’s cry was muffled into the wool of a coat. 

The bastard was arched and all angles and John _had_ to take him. Sherlock was his. His teeth ached with need as the cloying scent of them both became intoxicating. They were slipping due to lack of traction and by god, John was not going to fuck this up even more than it already was. Impossible-angles-be damned. John pushed Sherlock’s head down further and gripped his hip tightly with his free hand and felt it. The give. Oh, that was the ticket. He’d come and knot Sherlock so very well... give him everything.

 

He was panting and squirming; he needed to hold still. “Calm down, Sherlock... I’ve got you-”

“No! They’ll... hurry... please just-” His words stopped as he bit on a sleeve and groaned deep enough to make John’s balls ache. 

“I don’t think we’re going to be- I’m pretty sure-” John shut his mouth and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s sweat mussed curls. If everyone was listening so be it. “-time limit...” 

There would be no doubt that Sherlock _was_ his. He was amazed that he still hadn’t gone into a rut haze though. Sure they were aching for one another, but where was the mindless drive? Sherlock moaned again and moved against him shorting out his thoughts for a moment. Right then.

“Almost, love.” John soothed instead, changing tactics as Sherlock was coming apart at the seams. “Almost.” 

John felt himself swell, he moaned low and worried more for Sherlock then the fact that they were about to be bonded... if he could just... get ahold of that long luxurious neck. Knotting was supposed to be easy; primal. John let himself go finally, fisting his hand once again into the matted curls. He pulled Sherlock backwards towards his chest making _his omega_ arch almost painfully. It had to be uncomfortable, but John fucked into Sherlock harder to abate the small strain he might be feeling and licked a hot stripe right across the virgin skin. 

“Now- please!” 

Sherlock begging was the most beautiful sound in the world. John thrust once more, biting Sherlock and filling him all at once as their knees decided to give out. John continued to thrust, finally caught in a semi-haze from the bonding high and mix of their scents as Sherlock groaned his own release into the ruined wool coat. Kissing was high on the need scale now so he peppered Sherlock lightly with soft chaste kisses and soothing words as his hands found Sherlock’s and held him against the wall. 

“Mine, now. Everyone-” John’s breath was still fast; keeping time with his heart. 

“Yes. I don’t care who heard, John-” Sherlock tilted his head back and caught John’s lips in a wet sloppy kiss. “Yours now. S’all fine.”

John giggled at that. It was true, they were bonded. All because of some stupid game but his heart was lighter than it ever had been. “Love you, you mad idiot... my idiot.” 

“Just pheromones talking... keeping you high until next go round.”

“No, I don’t... well do you feel _it_? The burning?” He felt himself beginning to dissipate and gently pulled out. John tied it off and gently rubbed at Sherlock’s welted entrance. When he sucked his breath in tightly through his teeth, John apologised. “Tender?”

“Yes-” The soft reply came. “John, could you-” 

Sherlock turned around, his eyes rimmed red, but bright and reached for John. Allowing himself to be pulled closer, John settled crosslegged on the floor and pulled Sherlock onto his lap. 

“I’m here. It’s fine... isn’t it? I-”

“Now who’s the idiot?” 

John smiled at that and kissed Sherlock’s reddened lips. “Too quiet out there... figured cheers or... I dunno. Something?”

“Don’t care. Sleep.” 

“In the closet?” Would he never cease to be amazed by the daftness of the- of his omega? As much as Sherlock was a genius, there were times- like these- that seemed... well ridiculous. 

“Yes. In the closet. With our sodden clothes. Least ‘til Molly’s done with Jim and Seb...” 

Sherlock’s voice began to trail off. 

“Fine, just a quick nap until your next go round. Then we find a proper bed for that one.”

“Shut up, John. Your omega needs rest.”

John chuckled once more softly and closed his eyes to doze.

~~~~~

Mycroft and Greg came into the party as everyone scattered. Apparently someone had seen the panda car and started a mass exodus. 

They both just laughed. 

Heading to the kitchen, they noticed the bottle and picked their way through hastily left drinks on their way to the kitchen to get a lager for Greg and some red if they had it for Mycroft. They heard the muffled sounds in the closet and giggled to themselves reminded of a party just a few summers ago and how they had met. 

“Sounds more then seven...” Greg mused as he popped a top and took a good swig. “More like... fifteen?” 

“Gregory... must be more than that as-” Mycroft scented the air. “The ‘haze’ of it can be almost tasted to here.”

“You don’t think that someone’s gone into-”

“No, I don’t... not... sweet enough? Come Gregory, you should be able to tell...”

“Still have my inhibitor sprayed on me.” He cocked his head and listened. “Oh! Sounds a bit like they’ve gone and- _Is that John... and SHERLOCK_?!

Mycroft listened momentarily and then blushed to his roots. “I believe so. Looks like we get to be the first to welcome John into the family. Breakfast it is then.”

“Aren’t you... angry? I mean to take an... and he’s your brother.” 

Greg leaned against the counter and shook his head _trying_ not to listen. Mycroft sidled over to him and caged him in with his arms.

“It’s better that they got it worked out now, don’t you think?” Mycroft was always pragmatic about these things. If there were one person he could trust his brother with, it would be John Watson. Sherlock had been over the moon with the boy for nigh on two years. “Good for John. They both... well. We know what it feels like to walk that line...” 

The kiss was soft and sweet, perfectly placed on Greg’s cheek.

“Yea, we do. Let’s let them have at... wait on the porch then? Leave the door cracked-”

“So we can hear when they go to make their exodus?” Mycroft responded, finishing Greg’s sentence. The fond smile that crossed his face was visible only for a second. “Yes.”

“What a night.”

**Author's Note:**

> ... Now what happened with Molly and her boys?
> 
> Musical inspiration: Alt-J Every Little Freckle  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axTSc3e6wu8


End file.
